


feel the light upon my skin

by interstellarbeams



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Morning After, Post Epic Boat Sex, mentions of Melisandre, mentions of Mirri Maz Duur, mentions of Missandei
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 02:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12224232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Daenerys has no earthly idea how she and Jon are going to defeat The Night King but Winter has come and Spring is a far off dream. (Post 7x07)





	feel the light upon my skin

**Author's Note:**

> Nora ([GreenFish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenFish)) is wonderful and I want to thank her for being my beta and for diving into another fic of mine with another "new" ship!
> 
> This fic is dedicated to all my friends who ship them! I'm so excited to have been right about these two, all along. I mean, "A Song of Ice and Fire?" COME ON. lol

The warmth of the rising sun’s rays were what awoke her. The dappled daylight shone from the window, onto the dark wood of the ship’s deck in a distinct quatrefoil pattern, crossing the room and coming to rest on the snowy fur coverlet draped across her.  


Daenerys was surprised that Missandei had yet to come and greet her for the day, as she so often would.  


_Maybe she had been caught up with Grey Worm._   


The two had been very close lately and Dany knew how much they cared for one another. Sighing, she rolled over and pushed herself up onto her elbow, only to be met by a unexpected resistance.  


_Wait, what?_ she thought to herself, as memories of the night before suddenly flooded her mind. She felt a blush coming on at the sight of the strong, dark-haired man lying beside her -- and she hadn't blushed since the gods knew when.  


_That would explain Missandei’s absence this morning_ , she thought, somewhat flustered. Her handmaiden and close friend had been right when she had teased Dany about her affection for Jon Snow, at Dragonstone. _How could she have known, at the time?_  


Dany hadn't been formally expecting anyone the night before, but there was a sense of _anticipation_ , deep in her gut. That was a feeling that she hadn't experienced in a long time. A feeling that had made her heart race and butterflies flutter in her stomach...  


So she was surprised, _yes_ , when she opened the door, expecting her handmaiden, or maybe Ser Jorah. She never expected the quiet, yet determined King of the North, Jon Snow. Despite her shock, she had always felt a sense of inevitability, in regard to them coming together. They had a magnetism that could not be denied.  


_How could she have forgotten so swiftly?_  


A shifting of the body next to hers, and the removal of the arm that had been holding her in place brought her out of her reverie. She smiled at the sight of the half-sleeping man beside her.  


_Gods, he was beautiful_ , she thought.  


He stretched slowly, under her unwavering gaze, before pressing a barely-there kiss to the curve of her shoulder. He breathed her in and sighed, before lifting his dark eyes to hers.  


“Good morning,” Daenerys whispered, as she shifted her body towards his. His eyes traveled down her body, slowly, before he brought them back up to hers. A newly familiar flame burned there.  


“Morning,” he rasped, his voice husky after the long night of misuse.  
His hand came to rest against the small of her back, as she tried to ignore the shiver of awareness that went through her at his touch. It felt warm, like the first touch of spring sunlight after a long, dark winter.  


Her mouth went dry suddenly and she longed for a distracting drink of cool Arbor wine.  


Dany stretched her arm over him to reach for the decanter of wine leftover from the night before, accidentally brushing against his chest with her breasts, trailed by her long, silvery-blonde hair.  


His sudden inhalation was loud in the still room, and she gasped at the surprising sensitivity of her breasts as they grazed his bare skin. She abandoned her attempt to reach the wine, as Jon stretched up to kiss her hungrily.  


Dany sighed into his mouth automatically, clutching at his shoulders with slim fingers, while his callused ones left a trail of fire in their wake.  


_I am the blood of the dragon_ , she thought, _but this is a different kind of flame._  


_The flame of desire._  


The scratch of his beard against her chin was rough and distracting, until he tilted his head and the scrape suddenly became tantalizing, as it rasped the sensitive skin of her neck. She moaned when he deepened the kiss. Desire coursed through her veins, making her feel weak and yet -- incredibly strong.  


He whispered her name against the column of her neck, and she sighed at the tender touch of his lips.  


The ship suddenly and inexplicably tilted to one side, creaking as if it was split asunder -- _one of her dragons landing on the deck, perhaps?_ Daenerys held in a shriek as the wine decanter crashed to the floor. Jon clasped her to his chest, his cheek colliding with her disheveled braids. Her fingers dug into his biceps as she fought to keep him on the bed with her.  


The ship corrected itself just as abruptly as it had tilted, and she laughed at the hilarious sight they must have made: both of them as naked as their namedays, holding onto one another for dear life.  


“What's so funny?” Jon asked. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her curiously, his wild curls tousled and hanging down over his eyes.  


“Nothing, it's just--” Dany bit her lip as she looked into his eyes. “I've never had to fight so hard to keep a man in my bed before.”  


Jon looked offended for a moment before he noticed the twinkle in her eye. He mock-glared at her, then laughed, before purposely pushing them off the side of the bed and onto the floor.  


Daenerys did shriek then, as the coolness of the floor met her unsuspecting skin. “The floor-- it’s freezing!”  


“Really? I thought you were blood of the dragon,” he teased, surprisingly mirroring her thoughts of merely a moment earlier.  


Jon laughed out loud at her shocked expression, her eyes wide and strangely innocent.  


“I’m not used to ice like you, _Snow_ ,” she sniped back, before he dragged the fur off the bed and wrapped it around her. Jon then rolled them over so that her back was to the floor, and the fur was underneath them.  


She quirked an eyebrow at him, as if to say, _“Clever,”_ before he bent his head to kiss her once more. The cold was forgotten as all of her attention went to the warmth of his body on hers.  


_Had she ever been treated so tenderly by a lover?_ No, she thought not. She had never even experienced this much joy in her _marriage_ bed.  


The rasp of his tongue against her neck left her panting and she wondered just how much of a beast he really was. _Did he truly warg into his direwolf, Ghost, who she had heard so much about?_ Just the idea of a possible animalistic side had her gasping for more. The sensation of his tongue as he licked her the night before had been incredibly erotic.  


Her wandering thoughts drew to a halt as his kisses trailed lower, his tongue finding even more devastating areas to plunder.  


_Gods_ , she thought, as she tossed her head against the deck and sweat trailed down her back, _I would ask him to stop, but it's just too much._  


\--------

After they had finished, his face turned dark and morose, and surprisingly more familiar.  


He was probably thinking of how dire their situation was, not only for the two of them, but for everyone in the Seven Kingdoms. It was a thought that was nearly always on her mind, and she assumed it was the same for Jon.  


Dany sighed in frustration, more at the situation than anything else. The Long Night _would_ come -- after eight _thousand_ years of tales from their nursemaids and septa’s stories in the solars of Westeros -- no matter how much they wished it wouldn’t. She hoped that they would be prepared, but there was no telling how strong the Night King’s Army of Wights would be. Especially now that they had Viserion.  


She turned her head into the curve of his neck, fighting tears long held back at the thought of her beloved dragon that she’d lost. The dragons were her children -- her _only_ children -- and now one was _gone_.  


She wished she had the power of Mirri Maz Duur, so that she could bring her lost child back. The _maegi_ hadn't just taken her ability to have children away, but she had also taken her faith that her family would someday be remembered as they once were -- conquerors, saviors, _rulers_.  


Daenerys truly _was_ the last Targaryen.  


_Did she even deserve a child of her own to hold? After all that she had done, after every mistake that she had made?_  


Jon didn't believe in the witch’s power -- and he had admittedly more experience with them than she.  
The Red Witch, _Melisandre_ , had brought him back to life after his black brothers’ betrayal -- he had told her about it once, in a soft, broken voice, after a night of drinking and “dancing” with her Hand. And yet, he still didn't believe in Mirri’s power to take away life. It would baffle Dany if she hadn’t been so sure of Jon’s trust in her.  


Sometimes, in her darkest moments, she believed that _his_ was a misplaced trust.  


Sniffling was _beneath_ a Targaryen, or at least that's what Viserys had always told her with a threatening fist, but Jon didn't say a word. He simply carded his fingers through her tangled curls, letting her weep.  


“ _Jon_ ,” Dany whispered, furrowing her brow as she peered up at him.  


“Yeah?” Jon bent his head to hers, placing a kiss in between her eyebrows right on her frown line.  


“Do you think we’ll survive this? _Together?_ ” she asked softly, her voice barely audible.  


He was silent for awhile, and she was afraid that he had fallen asleep, but his chest rose and fell steadily beneath her cheek.  


“I don't know,” Jon sighed finally, his fingers loose, yet anchored in her hair.  


She really couldn't expect any less of an answer from him. It was a truly _impossible_ question -- but she felt her heart drop anyway, considering the magnitude of what they faced. Even with her two dragons, The Unsullied, the Dothraki horde, _and_ all the strength behind the King of the North, she was afraid they would be hopelessly outnumbered.

\--------

Despite their fraught moods, they managed to fall back asleep, wrapped up in each other, until a suspiciously loud thunk sounded from outside the iron-banded door.

Jon jerked up immediately, his battle-hardened senses taking over. He lept up from their place on the floor and took a defensive stance. Dany figured he would have looked much fiercer if he had been clothed, and had the famous Longclaw in his grip, but as it was, he looked quite foolish. She couldn't hold in a giggle at the sight.  


Jon rolled his eyes before scooping her up into his arms, depositing her atop the much coarser wool bedding. Her eyes fluttered sheepishly to the fur pelt strewn carelessly across the floor of her room.  


“I guess it's about time for me to get back to my quarters,” Jon admitted, crossing the room to snatch up his shirt, gambeson and breeches.  


Dany watched him with large, sad eyes for a moment, before leaving the bed to stand in front of him. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin, but she ignored them and the chill of the floor underneath her bare feet, as she helped him get dressed.  


They didn't exchange words; the only sound in the room was the slap of waves against the sides of the ship, and the rush of laces, leather and metal, catching against one another.  


They stood quietly, facing one another for a moment longer. Her hands rested against his chest, as he bent his head to kiss her again, swiftly, before crossing the room, leaving as decisively as he had entered, the night before.


End file.
